


Chivalry

by shaytrevor



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Chivalry, Dragonborn (D&D), Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 Edition, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Fantasy, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, M/M, Size Difference, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 16:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaytrevor/pseuds/shaytrevor
Summary: A dragon comes to his knight's rescue





	1. Knight's Student

**Author's Note:**

> A Knight/Princess/Dragon role reversal request that I fell down the rabbit hole with. Editing/wording is clumsy since the story so far is a bunch of excerpts I've pinned together...
>
>> Requesting variant on knight/dragon/princess dynamic with the dragon rescuing the knight from an evil princess. Bonus points if the dragon has a crush on the knight before the rescue mission because they (the knight) helped him out previously, as chivalry dictates. Double bonus points if the ages are metaphorically (since dragons are still older than most humans by default) reversed with the dragon being a Youngblooded hotshot and the knight an older, wiser, silver fox/daddy.
> 
> Age of MC
>     As of writing, the MC is 18. Dragonborn mature more quickly than humans, reaching "adulthood" at ~15 years in D&D canon.
> Spoilers
>     I'm dumping what I have as I go, so anything that's part of my notes or not finished yet is included.
> Spell Changes
>     I'm trying to keep as close to D&D canon mechanics as possible, but may tweak some rules if I can't find a way to solve a plot point that feels natural enough.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taz meets his mentor and trains.

Taz rapped the large brass knockers of the manor’s large wooden door. There was a chance that there would be no answer, and that the trek outside the city would have been wasted, but that was simply a chance he needed to take.

The door had plenty of clearance, but Taz hunched anyway. Not everyone was accustomed to welcoming a 6’5", muscled, [cesious](https://www.colourlovers.com/img/8CA6B5/130/110/Cesious.png)-scaled dragon that appeared on their doorstep.

He knocked again. As Taz looked around when he’d approached, he saw the grounds were manicured, there were recently fresh footprints, and a horse was out at pasture–

The latch on the door’s inside was undone and it opened. “Good morning,” said the man who emerged.

Taz blanked for a instant. He was a gentleman with a squared jaw, late 40s, dressed in a black tunic and work trousers. He still looked strong and full of vigor despite the tinge of grey in his short black hair.

“Sir Farlight?”

The man smiled. “Yes, that is me. How may I be of service?”

“Sir Farlight, my name is Tazfarn Olsam, of the Spellcales, and it would be an honor to learn swordsmanship from you.” Taz fumbled with a bag of coin on his belt. “I’ve brought–”

Farlight waved a hand. “Please, if this is business, come inside.” He opened the door and gestured for Taz to enter. “You’re not yet a student, you’re a guest.”

Farlight handed Taz a stein of fresh water once they were inside and seated in Farlight’s den. Based off of the number of paintings, statues, and exotic art it was clear that Farlight was well-traveled. “Now, Mr. Olsam…what brings you here?” Farlight took a seat opposite Taz.

Taz sat forward. “I’ve heard many great things about you, Sir Farlight, and I wished to learn from a sword master.”

Farlight smiled. “I’ve heard that dragonborn fierce when it comes to combat, and you mentioned a clan name, the Spellscales?”

Taz could feel what was being asked. “Yes, I’m a Spellscale, but my clan is primarily magic users. Some of the best I’ve ever seen.” Farlight nodded. Dragonborn have an immense sense of pride in their abilities.

“I’d always looked up to my elders, but magic never felt natural to me. I wanted to prove my worth with strength, rather than with spells. There weren’t many sword fighters, so I did everything I could to learn on my own.”

“Ah–and now, you’re searching for someone to teach you what they know, and so you’ve sought out the best?”

Taz nodded. “It’d be a tremendous honor, Sir.”

“Then I will train you.” Farlight stood to walk out of the room, and Taz hurriedly followed, in disbelief of how quickly he decided. “You’re not someone who’d squander an opportunity like this, I can tell.”

Taz shook his head, “I’d never—Sir Farlight, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Good! Then if you’re feeling up for it, I’d like to see what you’ve learned on your own.” Sir Farlight guided Taz out of the back door of his manor to a large courtyard that bordered a sand-filled lot. There were a few wooden targets, dummies, and a sword strewn about. “Pardon the mess,” said Farlight, while fetching one of the training swords.

He strolled back, handing the sword to Taz. “It’s not much, and I’m not prepared for lessons today,” he said, “but I’d like to see what you’re capable of.” Taz nodded. He walked to the dummy—there was a lot of pressure to impress suddenly thrust on him. Farlight called out a few separate strikes at first. Back-strikes, cleaves, lunges.

Taz’s vision had narrowed as he focused on the weapon-scarred wooden training dummy. Farlight was bringing him through the motions of a swordsman, trying to gauge his new student. He changed his order every few minutes.

“You’ve got a lot of power behind you, but stay light on your feet.”

Taz hit the dummy with strike after strike, sending sharp wooden _cracks_ echoing around the courtyard’s cobblestone walls. Taz paused to take off his tunic, grabbing a fistful of fabric and rucking it over his head before tossing it aside.

Jarin smiled. “Remember to keep your core protected. Back straight.”

Taz paid careful attention to his instructor’s voice, not missing a beat. Farlight already promised to teach him, but this was his first opportunity to prove how passionate he was toward learning from a seasoned swordsman.

“Okay! That’s enough for now. Catch your breath—I’ll be right back.”

Tunnel vision is dangerous in combat. It was his hunter’s instinct to keep his focus trained on his target and worsened by his perfectionism, but so long Taz he focused on the right things, he was okay. His scaly chest heaved as he paced the courtyard, trying to cool himself and shake his daze until Farlight returned with a stein of water.

Farlight smiled as Taz all but drained the water he’d brought. “We started an hour ago. I didn’t want to stop you, but I don’t think you’d have stopped. If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have guessed that you’re self-taught. You’re a natural, Mr. Olsam.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Taz propped the wooden training sword against the dummy before dumping the remaining water over his head. Farlight’s praise meant more than the knight realized, and more than Taz felt comfortable admitting yet. “I didn’t mention it earlier, but I usually go by Taz.”

Farlight smiled. “Taz…gladly. You’ll want to rest tonight. We’ll start training tomorrow.”

Taz nodded and moved to gather up his bag from the courtyard’s edge, planning to stop at a stream he’d passed to cool down before finding a place to rest for the night.

“Be careful! See you tomorrow morning.” Taz and Farlight waved goodbye before the dragonborn student headed back up the road he’d journeyed that afternoon, shirt in hand and travelling bag over his shoulder.

A few minutes into walking, his head was still swirling with Farlight’s voice. Stances, strikes, and Farlight’s critiques flitted through his head as he walked: “you’re strong, but precision over strength. Let your blade do the work.”

Cold water usually did the trick. A quick dip would shake him out of his daze and help him focus back on the road. Taz detoured off the road to a creek he’d passed earlier. The sun was setting, so the light under the trees was dim—he lit a lantern from his bag to be careful.

Taz unfastened and pulled off his boots before kneeling by the water. It was a bit cool, but still, he held his breath and forced his head under for several seconds—Taz’s full body tensed with the chill as he pulled his head out, streams of water running down his torso.

The remaining hour’s march back to the city felt like minutes. When he entered the city’s bounds, a room for the night became Taz’s priority. Luckily, he had more money to spare than expected, after Farlight vehemently refused any sort of payment for his lessons: knowledge of how to wield a sword should be free to anyone willing to learn it.

A few inns looked promising, but he chose a bed and breakfast. Taz paid for a simple, no-frills room of an inn and collapsed into bed, looking forward to a hot meal and his first full day of training with Farlight.

* * *

The night was generally sleepless for the aspiring dragonborn. Too much excitement toward training left Taz tossing and turning in his cot.

Breeze over day one, should really be just the basics

Sleep in inn again

* * *

Farlight was already out in the courtyard when Taz arrived the following morning, prepping equipment. The knight had donned a set of sparring armor already: a padded chest plate and protective bracers over his otherwise bare torso. The chest piece straps crossed midway down his back, forming an “X”.

“Good morning, Sir!” Taz shouted.

Farlight turned to greet his student. “Ah, Taz, you’re here early.” His voice was welcoming, even though it seemed he was just waking up. Taz mentioned he’d had difficulties sleeping as well. “It’s a good problem to have when you’re a guardsman, but not when you’re trying rest. We’ll take it easy after my test yesterday.”

Farlight pointed Taz to a shed by the manor. “Check in there for some training armor…to be honest, I’m not sure how much—if anything—will fit you. See if you can at least find a chest piece and some arm guards for your sword arm.”

Taz nodded and left to search through the storage. The helmets were for human heads, but two sparring shoulder pads and a chest piece were adjustable enough to fit his broad draconic torso. The arm pads were undersized for his forearms, but they’d work.

Farlight was frankly surprised at his student’s success, and chuckled. “They’re a bit small, but they’ll do well for now.” The dragonborn blushed slightly. He was significantly taller than most of Farlight’s past students.

“Have you ever used a shield before?” asked Farlight.

“I haven’t ever fought with one, no.”

“Then today is the day.” Farlight passed a foot-diameter painted training buckler to Taz. “We’ll try a small one for now. You already have a lot of skill with blades, but you leave yourself open a bit during strikes, and an opponent would certainly take advantage of it.”

Taz nodded. He wasn’t the most dexterous, so it would be helpful to have a way to protect himself. He maneuvered the buckler to get a feel for its weight.

“With a shield, you give yourself a way to block a strike without placing yourself in danger—it’s much easier than blocking with your sword.”

Farlight picked up one of the wood training swords and walked Taz through blocking with the buckler for a few minutes. The dragonborn drank in everything Farlight had to say, and fixated on his form. Bucklers were for deflection, and could be used to bludgeon in a pinch…

For the age he was, Farlight was mobile, and fast. His expertise had been honed, and showed even through his strikes with wooden weapons. Taz’s training was more hands-on than he’d anticipated.

“Once you’re used to the weight, larger shields can also help you protect things behind you, or even others.” Jarin picked up a larger shield from his store. “Swap out your buckler for this,” he said. Taz did as requested.

Jarin continued his lesson. “Stance is the most important aspect of blocking.” Taz attempted to mimic Jarin’s position, but was off slightly.

Jarin smiled. “Here…” Jarin stepped up to Taz and turned around, backing up against the dragonborn. “Most of my students have been smaller than me, so bear with me.” He wrapped the dragonborn’s hands around his own, intertwining their fingers. “This is a bit backwards.”

Taz held his breath. more

* * *

The end of Taz’s third day of training approached faster than he’d anticipated. Already, he surprised himself with the progress he’d made: Sir Farlight was an excellent teacher, and he wasn’t afraid to practice alongside him. more

He gathered up his shirt and bag, reattaching his sword to his belt. “Thank you again, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The sun was a bit lower than he’d hoped, so he intended to hurry back to the inn once he was out of the courtyard.

“Taz—”

Taz turned around. Farlight was unfastening the chest piece of the training armor…the world went quiet briefly while Farlight stripped off his protective gear. He undid the clasps of the arm guards. He looked over his teacher’s strong, toned torso, and saw years of blade scars on Farlight’s arms and bared chest, all healed. The gentleman’s skin glinted with sweat from a day of training in the sun.

“…unless you’d rather stay at an inn.”

Taz shook his head to bring himself back. It was his tunnel vision again, but it felt different this time… “What did you say, Sir?”

“I said, you’re welcome to stay here at night while you’re training.”

Taz was dumbstruck, and froze. “Sir, I can stay here?” Taz tried hard to veil his excitement: the trek to and from the city were more tiresome than Taz cared to admit, and even though Farlight denied any sort of payment for his time, if his training lasted too long Taz would eventually have to resort to his original plan of camping in the woods. He loved the outdoors, but a comfortable bed was always preferable to weathering the elements.

But Farlight nodded: “I’m sure, and I should’ve mentioned sooner. Many of those I’ve trained travelled great distances to find me, and I’m not exactly a stone’s throw from the city.” Taz nodded. “I have a guest room, and you’re welcome to it while you’re training here.”

Taz’s suddenly noticed his fatigue set in, but at the same time, he felt of a massive weight had been lifted. “Sir Farlight, I can’t thank you enough.” Farlight’s generosity seemed boundless. He’d only met the man a few days ago, but Farlight was already willing to open his home.

clean off

* * *

The walls of Jarin’s home were lined with paintings, vases, exotic weapons, trinkets—all from his travels. It felt as though the house was built to house his collection.

Taz walked carefully about as he inspected several of the pieces.

“Most were gifts.” Taz started as Jarin nearly snuck up behind him. “Mostly from King Dirbrand.”

“Wow,” Taz tried to bury his reflex. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to be so close to the King?”

Jarin smiled. “It’s a long story.”

Jarin had started as a soldier when he was younger, but after a few years in the army word of his skill and tact as a knight spread. He strove to protect others, no matter the cost. A few years pass, and the King placed a summons for a bodyguard: he needed protection and an escort for himself and his young family during a political matter. He sent for Jarin by name, and it was an honor he wouldn’t refuse. He was knighted and given a home for his service to the royal family.

“The only downside is that the King might need me at any time.” Jarin took a gulp of his drink. “That’s why I never married—I’d never want to chose between keeping a love or my King safe, after all he’d done for me.” He gestured about the room.

“That’s really noble of you.” Taz didn’t exactly know what he should say. Jarin had long since accepted his role to the royal family. more

“Choosing the royal family over one of my own wasn’t bad, of course.” He chuckled. “That was nearly 23 years ago. After all of the traveling I’ve done with the Dirbrands it’s almost like I’m a member of their family. I had the pleasure of watching Princess Gloriana grow up, and was there for the birth of Prince Henry.”

Taz met Jarin’s smile. “If you’ve been the royal bodyguard for 23 years, that means you’d have been—”

“I was 25. And King Dirbrand was 32.”

Sought out by a king for his skills by 25—Taz was dumbstruck.

“Believe me, it was a lot of work, and a lot of luck,” he laughed. “Training, fighting, and studying, and being in situations plenty over my head.”

Still, beyond impressive. “Sir, that’s amazing…”

Jarin swilled his rum. “It wasn’t what I expected I’d do, but I don’t regret a second.” Speaking of which, what are you interested in doing after you’re finished training with me? If you don’t mind my asking."

“I’m not sure, Sir. I was considering becoming a gladiator.” He shifted, a bit uneasy. Jarin thought for a few minutes, drink in hand.

Gladiators did not have the most “honorable” of occupations, nor the safest. Sir Farlight was known for teaching the sons of noblemen, pages, squires, and knights alike, not rabble ranking just above common street fighters. Of course, competitive sword fighting in general was now far safer, especially within the city—safer armor, more healers—modern sword fighters are rarely injured seriously, and competitions and public fights in general could be compared to fencing competitions, albeit somewhat theatrical.

While Taz planned to explain himself, Jarin spoke up. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’d be a great gladiator. If you’re hoping to make a name for yourself, that’s a great way to start.” He said. “You’re a talented swordsman,” Jarin paused to sip his drink. “A towering blue dragon dominating an arena is bound to get plenty talking!”

Taz blushed and he tried not to appear too flattered. Jarin was in an amazing mood, probably from his drink.

more

Jarin yawned. “It’s getting late, and there’s more training tomorrow! Here, I’ll show you your room.”

Taz followed Jarin to one of the manor’s guest rooms; it was more spacious than he’d expected, and comfortable. …

Jarin showed himself out. “Goodnight, Taz, see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Jarin.”

* * *

gives Taz a _Detect Magic_ ring as a send-off


	2. [Spoilers/WIP] The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taz rescues Jarin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would be the second to last in the story. _Heavy_ spoilers ahead.
> 
> Long story short, investing a ton of time into Gloriana's side of the story isn't what I would do as a DM and 100% of the plot development between Chapters 1 and 3 needs to happen here too and is yet unfinished.

Taz’s career as a gladiator was more successful than he’d imagined. Fame and renown were a far way away, but with he became Ixinon’s first and only dragonborn gladiator. It was mostly a vanity for match advertisers to exploit, but Taz fought as though it meant something—if to no one else, his fighting was important to him, and he fought the way Jarin would want him to fight.

His status as the only dragonborn combatant gave him benefits over the humans, elves and orcs he fought—no one knew how to fight a dragon. His eye position along gave him better peripheral vision, which was a massive advantage in the occasional free-for-alls. The public had not yet seen what his lightning breath was capable of, but a breath attack would probably qualify as cheating.

Of course, despite bouts mostly being for show, they still carried a significant danger. A stray blade could cut deeply, and cheating by others in tournaments was more common than Taz anticipated. In more than one fight his _Detect Magic_ ring helped the dragonborn steer clear of danger, turn the tides of a fight early, or both, and it had only been a season. Jarin had been right: most gladiators were only a few steps above common street fighters, but Taz refused to stoop to the other competitors’ levels. He held his head high.

He’d suffered no injuries, either. There were certainly close-calls, scares and dirty tricks, but Taz was unscathed, and he had never felt corned. Chain mail would never stand up to some of the more dangerous weapons that judges saw fit to allow, but thanks to his training, nothing that had made contact had passed Taz’s shield or blade thus far.

The morning prior to a tournament Taz decided to take a day and visit Jarin. He’d wanted to do so on several occasions already, but he couldn’t find the time. As part of the visit he wanted to thank Jarin for his time and apologize for being so unexpectedly distant.

* * *

When Taz arrived at Jarin’s manor, he tried to announce his presence, in case his mentor happened to be outside. There was no answer, so he tried the door. The brass knockers on the door felt lighter than Taz remembered.

The door opened promptly, but the answerer was not Farlight—she was a woman, a woman about his master’s age, but Taz had never seen her before. She was entirely unfazed at the towering form of a blue creature suddenly at the doorstep. “…Yes?”

“Good morning,” Taz said, taken aback. He bowed his head, “…ma’am. Is this Farlight manor?” He knew it had to be.

The woman nodded. “I’m Romana, Sir Farlight’s groundskeeper.” Her voice was endearing and soothing.

Jarin once told Taz that a local gardener would tend his home whenever he away. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Romana. Is Sir Farlight home?”

The groundskeeper shook her head. “No, dear, I’m sorry.”

Jarin only requested a groundskeeper when he was traveling with the royal family. “Well, thank you, and I hope I didn’t bother you. Do you know when he’d come back?”

She shook her head again. “Sir Farlight spends his time at the castle. Done so ever since he fell for the princess.”

Something registered. “What? The princess…Princess Gloriana?”

“Sir Farlight all but pledged himself to Princess Gloriana a few months ago now.” Taz stared in disbelief at her words. She nodded, and smiled. “That was the King’s reaction too; Sir Farlight’s a gentleman though, and his passions are his own. Although, it was a very sudden turn.”

Taz took a moment to think. He had to speak with Farlight for himself—he owed his master a visit, but his master’s “pledge” to the King’s daughter was more than a surprise. It would be almost scandalous for a man so close to the royal family to suddenly fall so deeply in love with the Princess. How hadn’t he found out something like that sooner?

“What’s your name, dear?”

“My name is Tazfarn, ma’am. I was one of Sir Farlight’s students.”

“Tazfarn…” Romana pondered something. “I see. I’m sure he’s at the castle, if you’d like to visit. I’m sure he should love to see a close friend.”

Taz twitched to head back to the road, preoccupied with her news. “Romana, thank you.”

* * *

> This is the part where you definitely stop reading if you know what’s good for you :)

The moment he was out of sight of Farlight’s manor, he hastened for the city.

* * *

Gloriana’s study; books piled along walls, on tables

introduction

Taz opened the door to Gloriana’s chambers and peered inside.

The scales on Taz’s neck ridged.

Jarrin looked like he had physically withered, and wasn’t as vital as Taz remembered. His arms and face looked thinner–not by much, especially compared to the princess’s condition.

“What’s that around your neck?”

It was a thin vial, almost, with a slight glow, attached to a silver chain around Jarrin’s neck. It looked extremely ornate.

Jarrin glanced down. “Oh, this is just a necklace.”

Taz’s heart dropped through his stomach.

His ring’s gem was glowing green—necromancy.

“What have you done to the princess?” Taz’s voice wavered as he spoke out against his teacher, but he moved his hand toward the grip of his sword. Something was wrong. Taz’s scales ridged slightly higher around his neck.

“Quiet, dragonborn,” Jarrin hissed. Not even Taz’s own name from his teacher and mentor. This was bad.

“I don’t know what you’ve done, Sir…” he could barely recognize the knight before him. There was a rage behind Jarrin’s expression that Taz had never seen before.

The pendant was key—whatever it was. Jarrin was guarding it now that it was brought to attention.

fight

Taz sprinted to his mentor who still unmoving and limp on the stone floor. He tore off his helmet to see a blank, unconscious face. Dread and fear washed over him, until he remembered to check his mentor’s breathing.

Taz’s ring glowed a bright, sickly green while the pendant was in his hand. It looked fragile enough. Taz threw it at the ground, where it shattered.

Out of the broken necklace came a blueish smoke that drifted toward Jarrin. A separate smoke, a magenta now, curled its way out of Jarrin as the blue smoke entered. Taz rubbed his eyes—what was happening? He knelt to cradle his mentor’s head, but he was still unconscious.

The magenta haze entered Gloriana. […]

It was moments after that two castle guards raced into the room, weapons drawn. Taz froze.

“Oh guards, thank goodness.” Gloriana gasped. “The dragonborn attacked me, and incapacitated Sir Farlight.”

One of the guards advanced. “Back away from Farlight, dragonborn.”

Taz’s fighter’s instincts began to dig out of him, forcing him to the balls of his feet.

“Stop!”

“Guards, the dragonborn is innocent,” shouted Farlight, a croaking groan from awakening from his daze. His garments under his armor were singed at their hems from Taz’s breath. “It was the Princess.”

The guards halted. “What?” “Sir, you must be delirious.”

“No,” Farlight said, more forcefully. “But leave him out of this, he tried to protect the Princess from me.”

“So, it _was_ you?”

Jarrin shook his head. “This is probably best explained with a council present…”

[…]

“Mr. Olsam—” “You should sheath your weapon. He _is_ the King.”

“You know this dragonborn?”

Jarrin glanced briefly at the guard. “I do—” He looked at Taz, with absolute relief in his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, I’m glad you came.”

[…]

“This blasted thing.” Jarrin picked up a piece of the shattered necklace pendant to hand to a guard.

“Your pendant?”

“Not mine. I only know what it is because I was trapped inside of it for the last several months.” He looked at Dirbrand. “Ever since Gloriana fell ill.” He continued, “it’s a phylactery.”

“Your daughter knows necromancy, your Highness.”

Taz’s skin crawled and the scales on his neck ridged. Heresy. The guards twitched to draw, and King Dirbrand’s gaze locked to Jarrin’s, but the knight nodded.

Dirbrand looked at Sir Farlight, then to his daughter, as a guard attempted to help the Princess to her feet. She was frail from months of lying catatonic in her chambers, tended to under the watchful eye of his closest and most trusted knight. Months.

He looked at the armed dragonborn fighter along the wall—he was certainly imposing, dwarfing most of his men, and there was no explanation for how the yet unidentified dragonborn had gotten so far into the palace, let alone his family’s quarters.

* * *

This section needs a bunch of rearranging

Sir Farlight explained the last few months’ dark history to the King and guards. Gloriana, feeling empowered—and emboldened—by pact she’s sealed with a demonic fey, sought out Farlight in an attempt to bewitch him. She’d practiced spells in secret for years, hexing animals, until a bold move by her fey patron coerced her into a more sinister act: casting a domination spell on a human.

Conduct with demons and otherworldly beings was in itself worthy of scolding, but willingly hexing a human—a knight, a nobleman—forced the court’s hand against the princess.

Gloriana herself admitted to her actions. She’d spied using dominated mice. She had blinked into her father’s court chambers during official business to sate her craving for political weight; but she had wanted more.

Gloriana harbored a dangerous resentment toward her younger brother, and as they both matured, the princess internalized her feelings, letting them fester. Her younger brother was set to succeed his father from the moment he was born, a massive blow to Gloriana’s future aspirations. Still, she studied, and observed, and took every opportunity to manipulate her Father’s diplomatic endeavors. On more than one circumstance she tried to do the same with her brother, attempting to convince him of her opinions on matters of state.

The princess’s boldness grew as her fey powers did, and on the 18th birthday of the prince? she decided to act.

She had a single shot, but executed her plan flawlessly: taking advantage of Farlight’s care and history with her and her family, she feigned […], surprised Farlight. The knight’s mind and soul were sealed inside a phylactery.

* * *

A sickening silence lingered in the air while the guards stood, horrified. Who was telling the truth, the princess, or the royal family’s guard? Taz’s rage hadn’t subsided: he trusted Farlight’s word, but his opinion would matter little.

* * *

After several hours of waiting, the palace’s steward finally exited the private chambers.

“You’re free to go, Mr. Olsam.”

Taz stood. “Where’s Sir Farlight?”

“Sir Farlight’s in good hands and safe, I assure you.” The steward handed Taz a small, folded piece of parchment. Taz unfolded it to read while the Steward continued. “He’s requested for you to come by his manor to visit in two days, once he’s feeling well enough to return home.”

“Please tell Sir Farlight I’ll be there. Thank you.”

* * *

“I could see, and I could hear.” Jarrin rubbed his eyes. “It felt like an eternity that I spent sealed away, and watching someone else live my own life.”

Taz moved to sit by his mentor. “Jarrin, that must’ve been torturous, I’m sorry.” Taz didn’t want to imagine how horrible it would’ve been, to see his friends and colleges fail to realize he was being puppeteered, almost.

Jarrin rubbed his eyes. “It’s thanks to you that I’m free now, Taz.”

“I know you’ve been busy, but I’d like to ask a favor.”

“Anything, Jarrin.”

“How long’s it been since we sparred?”

“Months, sir. Not since I became a gladiator.”

Jarrin nodded, “[…]”

“I need to get my strength back up before I return to the Dirbrands’ side.”

“What?” Taz started, incredulous. “After months of being trapped in that pendant.”

[…]

“The Dirbrands love their daughter, and she seems still to be the girl I’ve known at heart. She’s been remorseful, and she asked my forgiveness not long ago. The fey that coaxed her to do his bidding hasn’t seemed to have contacted her, or interfered with her after you freed me. Without a patron behind her she’s not nearly as strong, although Gloriana may still know necromancy. She did act of her own volition, but the promise of power and a means to achieve it are tantalizing to most any mortal—fey know that.”

“They’re the closest to a family I’ve had for years.”

Jarrin regains strength from atrophied muscles with help from Taz over several months


	3. [Spoilers] Dragon's Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dragon finally gets his knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whole chapter needs more work...but here's the good part.

"Taz, wait--" called Jarin.

Taz halted while Jarin caught up to him--he'd left the den and hurried after his ex-student. "Sir?"

Jarin took a deep breath. "You can sleep in my bed if you'd like...with me."

Taz was visibly confused. "Did something happen to the guest room?"

Jarin smlied. "No. I didn't take any opportunities to tell you while you were here training, but I'll be blunt--more"

Taz's head swirled with a mix of surprise and adrenaline. What was he asking? "Jarin..."

"And to be honest, I think we fell for each other, but we had other plans and obligations. I didn't want to pass the opportunity to say something tonight."

Taz clung to each word, all true for him as well. Had Jarin felt the same way?

"Jarin...I haven't had sex before." He didn't think it mattered, but Taz had no words otherwise.

His mentor paused.

"Then if you'd have me, I'd like to be your first."

He felt his body getting warm. His heart beat faster. Taz nodded, firmly. It felt like a dream.

Jarin took Taz's hand and stood, "Come with me."

Taz was utterly hypnotized by Jarin's smile--again. His heart was racing. Was this really happening? His teacher's warm hand held his scaly fingers while Jarin led them to his bedroom.

It was real, Taz thought, but it felt too perfect to be true. It was all happening in slow motion. Everything else but Jarin's body guiding him to his bedroom blurred away.

Jarin opened the door to a king-size bed. He held Taz's warm, broad hands and looked into the dragonborn's eyes. These were the same eyes that, months earlier, he'd met at his door. He'd wanted to push the young dragonborn to pursue his ambitions, but now that their paths would be so naturally entangled, he was glad the young dragonborn was here to stay.

Truth be told, during his weeks under Gloriana's curses, he'd hoped and prayed for Taz to find reason to visit him: Taz's instincts were infallible, and would scream the instant he encountered the Princess.

Taz stood still, stiff with nerves. "I...I'm not really sure what to do."

But Jarin smiled and rubbed his hand up Taz's side to comfort him. "There's nothing to worry about..." Taz nodded, lost in the feeling of the knight's touch through his shirt. "We'll go slowly. And I think I know what you'd like."

Jarin placed a kiss on the dragonborn's lips. It was soft, and unexpected, but Taz kissed back instinctively, and harder. While locked in their kiss Taz placed his hands on Jarin's chest, feeling his teacher's muscles through his tunic.

Jarin reached to his sides, tugging up the fabric of his shirt and pulling it up over his head. Taz raked his eyes over the knight's body, taking in every detail now, as if for the first time: his mentor was tanned, strong, and sturdy, with a tightly muscled chest, dotted with scars from blades, but his handsome face and kind eyes were what Taz had missed so much. He kissed Jarin again, palming and squeezing his pectorals.

"Just be careful with your claws," Jarin said, to the hesitation of Taz, but he pulled the dragonborn in closer against his body, tilting his head up to continue their kiss. Taz closed his eyes. He could feel his mentor's body heat through his shirt as he leaned on Jarin, their kiss becoming more passionate by the second. Taz's erection pressed into Jarin's waist, pinned between them.

Jarin's tongue probed at Taz's lips. He parted them just enough to let the knight's tongue in, before yielding completely. His body let out a moan.

Jarin broke the kiss to smile at his partner. "You like it?" Taz nodded passionately, words escaping him. A tug at his shirt's waist reminded him that he was still fully dressed...he pulled his tunic off, not caring where he dropped it.

Taz set his bare, scaled torso against Jarin's. The smoothness and softness of Jarin's skin was so enticing. The instant their lips rejoined he let Jarin's tongue back in, but's its moist warmth explored for just a moment before again departing.

It was Taz's turn. Taz pushed his tongue into his partner's mouth, comfortably slipping between Jarin's lips. It was warm, wet--Jarin's tongue intwined with Taz's. The dragonborn's was much longer, and he wanted to push more of it in, but he didn't want to overpower Jarin.

They passionately kissed while their hands explored. Jarin's hand palmed the erecting prodding him, and slipped it the dragonborn's trousers. Taz nearly whimpered as his teacher's hand wrapped around his cock. It was hot in Jarin's hand, and weighty...

Taz closed his eyes. There was something he'd wanted to do for ages: placed his hands on Jarin's waist, slid the around and down his back, into Jarin's trousers, and felt his teacher's muscled, toned ass. He avoided scaping with his claws. It felt perfect, and soft.

Jarin eventually broke their embrace to fetch a vial from his bedside table. "I'd ask you to help me with this--" he smiled, "I think you'd rather enjoy it--" He tipped the vial, spilling out a small amount of the clear fluid...enough to coat the fingers of his left hand after rubbing around. Jarin blushed: "we have to be careful about your claws though."

Jarin handed the vial to Taz and climbed onto his bed, settling onto his knees. He bent down further, ass up and presented to Taz, and braced himself on his right forearm.

Taz's cock twitched with anticipation, still leaking pre-cum from his excitement...the rest of him stood, motionless, mesmerized, as Jarin brought his left hand behind him, and slowly inserted one finger into himself. The knight pumped his finger in and out of his asshole, and then slid in a second.

Jarin kneeling on the bed in front of him, naked and with his fingers relaxing his ass. Taz was utterly entranced, with his cock hard and throbbing. He absently stroked it, watching his crush play with himself.

A few minutes later, Jarin slid a fourth finger in. "Okay," he said, pulling his fingers out. "Ready?" Taz nodded, almost absent-mindedly. Jarin smiled, flipping onto his backside and moving to the bed's edge. "Here, for good measure--"

Jarrin took the vial and tipped more into his left hand. He pulled the dragonborn closer to the bed, and wrapped his lubed hand around Taz's erection. Taz could feel his dick throbbing in Jarin's grasp and blushed. He had never been this aroused before. The knight slowly stroked Taz's cock, rubbing his thumb over its tapered head. He was ingrigued with the shape of it, a thick rod with a tapered tip and a slight curve.

Jarin let go of his ex-student's cock before settling onto his back, his ass positioned off the side of the bed. "Are you ready?"

This was it. Taz aligned his cock with Jarin's waiting hole. His heart beat rapidly as he stood over his teacher and readied himself.

"Just focus on my voice," Jarin muttered. "Push in slowly."

With his erection poised to enter Jarin, he leaned forward. Jarin's legs fell slack, relaxed as his asshole was breached by the dragonborn's cock head. The dragonborn's entry forced out a relieved, groaning sigh from his mentor. Taz's vision had narrowed to his cock as it sunk into Jarin, stretching his hole open. His cock looked too big for the knight to handle, but Jarin's soft moaning and writhing were invitations to push deeper.

Soon, Taz's pelvis was flush against Jarin's cheeks, his cock fully planted in his human lover's body. He held on to Jarin's hips, panting, and surprised that his mentor could take him in.

Taz paused for only a brief moment before beginning to rock his hips--slow, small motions, sliding gently in and out of Jarin. "Jarin," he panted. "You feel amazing, Sir..." Jarin's insides were hot and tight around his cock, and they twitched as Jarin's body adjusted to the throbbing draconic cock in him.

"So do you, Taz." Jarin's cock was hard and leaking pre-cum. He stroked it, his legs still raised while Taz worked his cock worked into him. He sighed with each slow push.

Jarin suddenly smiled. "Your cock feels amazing, but you don't have to be gentle the whole time."

That was the last encouragement from his mentor that Taz needed. more


End file.
